


Po's Firearms

by Wrespawn



Category: Grand Theft Auto V, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen, Gun Violence, Misogyny, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26028823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrespawn/pseuds/Wrespawn
Summary: This is just a little vignette of a possible FAHC Fiona characterization so I can experiment with writing her.  It’s not necessarily canon to any existing universes.Warnings: Graphic gun violence, casual misogyny.  Reader insert story, but not a sexual one.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	Po's Firearms

There’s been a new gun shop on the corner of your street for a few months now, but you haven’t found the time to peek inside until today.

The words _Po’s Firearms_ flash on the glass door, glinting red in the morning sun, as you push the door open.There’s no one other customers inside, just the girl behind the cash register.She’s leaning back in her wheelie chair, boots up on the counter, blowing pink bubbles of gum as she scrolls on her phone.A small paper tag reading “ _Hello, my name is Fiona_ ” is pinned to her army jacket.

There’s a plastic box on the counter beside the register.On a faded label is a charity logo and a little blurb, something about affordable housing and a plea for donations.You riffle through your pockets until you find a crumpled dollar bill, stuffing it in the plastic slot.

The cashier — Fiona — glances up at the sound of crinkling paper.Her gum bubble pops and she gives you a bright smile.“Hey, thanks!” 

“No problem.”You fidget.“Uh… pistol section?”

“In the back, to the left.Give a shout if you need anything.” 

The store is tidy, well organized, but absolutely packed with weaponry.You’re mostly window shopping — and taking the opportunity to nerd out over things you can’t afford — but if something catches your eye, you might leave here with a new pistol for the shooting range down the street.It’s been a while since you bought yourself a new toy, and your bank account is looking good this month.Your eyes are wide as you admire the hardware on the walls.You really should have come in here sooner, they’ve got every gun you’ve ever seen and more that you haven’t.

The front door squeaks as it opens.Looks like you’re not the only early bird interested in window shopping.

“Is the boss here?”

You half-listen to the conversation as you admire a steely-bright revolver.It’s well out of your price range, but maybe you’ll ask if you can hold it…

You can hear the sugary _pop_ of Fiona’s bubblegum.“Yep, she is.”

“I don’t mean the manager _,_ I mean the Nova.Where is he?”

The name hits the floor like an anvil.You’ve heard that name on the evening news, muttered by newscasters that seemed nervous to say it out loud.You’re suddenly very aware of how loud your breathing is.

Distantly, you can hear Fiona drawling a bored response.“He’s busy finding a big enough wheelbarrow to cart around his truck-sized dick.Maybe I can take a message?”

You don’t think you’re supposed to be hearing this conversation.

“My business is between me and him, I don’t need to go through a secretary.Just tell him the Skeptics want a word about their purchase.”

You try to watch them from the corner of your eye.The man looks angry.Maybe now isn’t a great time for window shopping.

“Skeptics?”Fiona purses her lips thoughtfully.“Ahhh, right.The domestic terrorist group.Let’s see, you purchased—”

“I didn’t come here to talk politics, I came here to get a fucking refund.Or the Nova’s head.He can decide which one.” 

“…Forty assault rifles and two rocket launchers, two ammo crates for the rifles, twenty rounds for the rocket launchers.”She rattles off the information as if reading off some invisible manifesto.“Totaling a price tag of —“

“I know how much money I wasted on your dud weapons!”

Fiona crosses her arms with a huff.“Ex _cuse_ you, are you implying that Po’s Firearms have quality issues?”

The man slams his hand on the counter, leaning over her.You hastily step behind a body armor display stand, hoping he hasn’t noticed you’re here.His voice is heating up like a revving engine.

“Your guns wouldn’t fucking fire.The guns, the ammo, we tried both of them on different hardware, and they’re all _worthless.”_

“Whaaaat?That’s _weird.”_ You’re not sure how she can sound so flippant. _“_ How did that happen?”

“A-and the rockets—!”The man’s face is deepening to a vibrant shade of crimson.“The rockets were — there weren’t any rockets in the crates we bought!”

“Wow, the crates were just empty?”

“No, they —“The man looks close to combusting.“They were filled with — rocket-sized adult paraphernalia!”

“Holy shit _, all_ the rockets?Like, every single one?”

“Yes, all the rockets!”

“Every _single_ rocket you bought was actually just a big floppy purple dildo?That’s so _weird._ ”

The man slams both hands on the table, again. “How’d you fucking know they were purple?”

Fiona shrugs, her eyes wide and earnest.“You know, maybe this is a good thing.Rockets mostly just make people unhappy.Dildos, though—“

The man draws a gun.

The firearm’s steely sheen reflects the fluorescent lights.You’ve only ever seen a loaded gun aimed at a target on a firing range, and this feels nothing like that.

“Where do I find the Nova?” the man grinds out.

Fiona gives the gun a thoughtful look, as though he was simply presenting it for inspection.“Mercury pistol, nine millimeter rounds.Reliable little gun, assuming it was put together right.Got more of those in the back.”She turns her focus back to his face, reluctantly, clearly more interested in the gun.“ _Really_ , dude?You came here because the guns I sold you didn’t work, and now you’re threatening me… with a gun I sold you?You wanna try pulling that trigger and see what kind of flower pops out?”

The man’s jaw tightens.“Y-you know, it’s against the law to take someone’s money and sell them junk.It’s fraud or some shit.” 

“Uh…”Fiona’s brow furrows.“So… are you gonna tell the cops that you got cheated in your illegal arms deal?”

“Of course not.”The man smiles, forced and twisted, more unpleasant than his sneer.“I’m gonna tell the cops that I got cheated in my legal purchase of _recreational_ firearms.I think they’ll find all my paperwork is in order.”

Fiona sighs.“Ah, okay, you’ve paid off the cops.That’s pretty cool.”She uncrosses her boots, then re-crosses them in the other direction.“Guess they like your money.But you know what?They’re _afraid_ of me.Which do you think they like more: your money, or their kneecaps?”

“Yeah, sure.The cops are afraid of a cashier _.”_ The man narrows his eyes.He leans over the counter, lowering his voice.“But maybe it’ll send a good message if I waste the Nova’s mouthy little—“ 

Her boot snaps up and kicks the gun out of his hand.Before it hits the floor, she lands a second kick on his jaw.Smooth as a gymnast, Fiona clears the counter and stands over the cursing pile of a man on the floor.You’re not sure how it happened, but there’s a pistol in Fiona’s hand, its steely sheen reflecting the fluorescent lights, identical to the one that was pointed at her head seconds ago. 

Her boot must have split the man’s lip against his teeth.He spits blood with his words.“W-we had a deal with the Nova!He’ll hear about this!"

“The Nova doesn’t sell guns to bullies.”Fiona smiles.“But she does take their money.And boy, I took a lot of your money.” 

A paralyzing existential epiphany creeps over the man’s expression.You understand how he feels.

“Thank you for your charitable donation to Po’s Firearms, asshole.”The Nova’s gun is aimed between his wide eyes.“I promise I’ll find a better use for it than your shitty gang would.”

A harsh _BANG_ slams against your ears.Then the man wears no expression at all.

Fiona’s bubblegum makes a much softer _pop_.She lowers her gun, her gaze sliding towards you. You’re not sure whether to beg for mercy or an autograph.

“Sorry about that.The store’s usually so quiet in the mornings.”She flicks the safety on and slips the gun into her belt.“So, you’re looking for a pistol?The Mercury is great in a pinch.” 


End file.
